The Predicament of Kaitlin Ueda
by 67OtakuGirl24X3
Summary: WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR LOST LOVES. Catherin and Satoshi Ueda's only daughter is a tomboyish, Qudditch-loving, I-don't-give-a-crap type of girl. She's forced into a double take, though, when she finds herself involved in an unexpected, 100% life-changing problem. Reviews are much appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

"Daddy… I never meant for this to happen." A million: that's how many ways I could have began this declaration. It's not like there was any falseness in my words, but I felt like I should have put more, I don't know, _feeling _into it. Make it more _dramatic. _

I, Kaitlin Gaia Ueda, have been a tomboy for as long as I can remember. Well… That's not entirely true. I had been a girly-girl until I was about 6, thanks to my mum. A few years ago, I would've stated that bitterly; however, I now realize her well intentions and that she was just trying to help the daughter she loved so much. Thinking back, I probably would've been better off with long beautified hair, skirts, and an interest in makeup and gossip as opposed to hair cut just below my ears, torn up jeans, and a love for Quidditch and irresponsibility. The latter was who I was, though. Boys feared me, and girls thought I was disgusting, so I had very little friends at Hogwarts. That barely bothered me, though, with my aloof personality.

Besides, there was one peer that managed to keep me going: Dennis Creevey II. The bleach blonde former Ravenclaw is my cousin, though not by blood. See, he's the _adopted _son of my dad's sister. It's weird, how that socially awkward bookworm could grow to be so close to my loud self simply because we were the same age. I'd say we have absolutely nothing in common, if not for our important mutuality of masked loneliness.

I'll tell you right here and now, when you're close to so few people, it's inevitable that you'll fall for that one guy/girl whom you share everything with. So, my _cousin _and I were eventually in love. My dad flipped about this, refusing to hear anything involving the fact that if my Aunt Sakura hadn't adopted Dennis, the two of us would be as good as strangers. By our third year at Hogwarts, though, we finally started dating (in secret, since we didn't want to take any more crap from people than we already did).

Of course, all good things have to come to an end. So, come seventh year, Dennis and I decided it would be for the best that we break. Miraculously, though, our friendship remained intact. Well, whenever we managed to stay in touch. Dennis was busy writing informational articles for the _Daily Prophet, _meanwhile I was hunting for some sort of Quidditch career. I'd been a Seeker for Gryffindor in my Hogwarts years, yet the only Quidditch-related job I was able to score was a vendor at tournaments.

"Kaitlin… How did this happen?" Dad asked me in present time. My immediate instinct was to respond with something snarky, obvious, and I suppose scientific. But, I restrained myself, and sunk into a flashback.

I honestly couldn't answer that question to its fullest potential, since I wasn't entirely sure how it happened myself. It had been a little more than a month ago, at a Quidditch World Cup. Having sold about 4/5 of all the merchandise I had available, I sat against a shelf counting my stack of earned coins with a huge grin on my face. Sure, I'd only get a small portion of the money, but considering how much there was I'd still receive quite a bunch. Movement caught in my peripheral vision snapped me out of my content thoughts, which I could barely hear above the cheering of the crowd and amplified commentaries from the stadium. I jumped slightly in surprise when I saw _him _standing here.

This man was a total stranger. His stringy dark brown hair was relatively greasy and obviously hadn't been combed recently; prickly facial hair covered his chin; I estimated him to be 25, though some habit (alcohol, I assumed) had chipped away at him giving him the appearance of someone in their 30s. His icy eyes were focused greedily on me.

"Uh… Can I help you?" I muttered, not noticing the volume of the crowd in the stadium begin to die down.

"You sure can, sweet thing. But what I have in mind will help you out too," he purred. I just stared at him with a cocked eyebrow for a few seconds until realization washed over me. Damn, I'd never been hit on before… I'd been flat-chested until I was 14, and I hadn't grown much since then. I still refused to let my dirty blonde (light brown, depending on how you look at it) hair grow longer than halfway down my neck, and without my pixie-like face and scrawny build I doubt anyone would be positive I was female.

This guy must've been real drunk.

"Just come out and say whatever you mean," I spat. The man chuckled and ran his fingers against my cheek. I recoiled, being so unused to such romantic gestures.

"I'm a big Quidditch fan, see. I noticed you're at _all _the games, and I've been keeping my eye out for you ever since. Maybe you remember me?" he crooned.

"Hell if I know," I indicated. I tend to discard the memory of my customers' faces; it's their money that matters to me.

The man laughed. "Look babe, why don't we go out for a drink. Get to know each other," he suggested. I took a step back as if expecting him to pounce at me. I swore I'd give up on men after the whole Dennis thing… If I was never going to find eternal romance with him, I never would with anyone else… That being said, I have no idea why I was naïve enough to eventually swing myself over the counter, whip out my wand to lock up, and take this stranger's arm so we could Disapparate to God-only-knows-where.

A bar. Why was I surprised? It isn't like there's anywhere else one would expect to grab a drink. I guess it just took me off guard because I had only been to one of these places once, and that time, I learned of my one true weakness. Long story short, I was in a hangover for two days after a single mug of beer. I hesitantly entered the bar, flinched as my date snaked his arm around my waist, scrunched up my nose at the overwhelming scent of liquor, and then everything else was a blur.

I had learned the man's name, I know that, but I can't recall what it was. I have _no _clue what actions we took, or how drunk I got, just that I woke up the next morning in the same bed as the man, both of us naked. Terrified, I had thrown my clothes on and Disapparated home before he could even roll over. Regardless of if I had one bottle or five, I spent the next day shaking, vomiting, and experiencing a pounding headache. My chapped lips were evidence that I'd done a lot more than talk to this man… The dirty, unfamiliar taste on my mouth and hickeys covering my body confirmed this.

And now I was standing before my parents at the age of 19, announcing my shocking pregnancy.


	2. Chapter 2

I brought myself to sit in an armchair in the family room, leaving my cup of tea to go cold on the coffee table. Ever since I graduated from Hogwarts, it wasn't at all often that I returned home to visit. That being said, the moment I called and said I'd be over later, Mum felt it the natural thing to do to whip out tea and cookies. The plate of snickerdoodles, however, remained so far untouched.

Mum daintily sat herself beside Dad on the couch across from me and handed him his coffee. One time, when I was 8 or 9, I came downstairs t see my parents, to put it simply, _doing it _on that very sofa. I'd avoided it ever since. "So, are you… gonna keep it?" Dad questioned hesitantly as he brought his steaming beverage to his lips.

It took me a second to register what he meant. Even when I realized he was referring to the baby, I simply stared at him. Meanwhile Mum practically choked on the cookie she had taken a bite of and snapped her gaze toward her husband, bleach blonde hair whipping around her for a moment before returning to neatly framing her face. I could only imagine the exclamations going on in her mind right now. Having only 2 kids of her own, she's always been _dying _for grandkids… But my older brother Sam vowed to never have children. Then again, he owns an orphanage, so Mum can't exactly complain.

"I… I kind of _have _to, don't I?" I sputtered. Dad set down his coffee mug and reached over the table to rest his hand on my knee.

"It's completely up to you, love. If you don't want to be a mother, well then, you don't have to," he murmured. I'd only seen Dad serious like this about 5 times before in my lifetime… I much preferred it when he was being his boneheaded goofy self.

Gently biting my lip, I grabbed my teacup and took a long sip of the liquid (I didn't even need to blow it off, I'd left it sitting for so long). Mum had added just the right amount of sugar and honey to give that jolt of utter sugariness without causing a toothache… She used to make the drink for me as a reward for good behavior, if I was feeling down, or just whenever she was feeling lovey dovey enough… Holy God, was I actually missing my childhood? I glanced downward, my eyes lingering on my stomach; I sure as hell was.

It was silent for another moment. I myself was unsure whether or not I was thinking over Dad's question, or simply avoiding it. Dad broke the quiet by whistling some sort of elevator waiting music; I chuckled into my cup before finally setting it back down. My slight smile faded afterward and I cleared my throat. "I guess, I… might as well keep the little monster." Wow, Mum was awful at hiding an expression of relief. "I mean, 'cause, getting an abortion is basically paying to murder a baby, and when you look at it that way, it's just plain screwed up. And I don't exactly want some other freak raising _my _little brat…" Did that make me sound like a softie? I sure hope not: I never exactly grew out of that always-have-to-act-like-a-toughie stage.

"I'm so glad, sweetheart," Mum breathed, one hand placed lightly over her heart. Her soft expression suddenly turned serious. "Are you going to contact the father? Let him know you're having the baby? Perhaps he's actually an understanding guy…"

"And will you let me kick his arse?" Dad added.

I ignored my father and shook my head. "I told you that I don't even know his _name… _Plus I Disapparated before I could get a good look at where I was when I woke up in the morning, so I'd have no clue how to find him," I explained.

Mum furrowed her eyebrows together and slightly bit the inside of her cheek. "Alright… Well, don't worry your pretty little face, you can come to us for help anytime… You could even move back in, if you'd like."

That right there made me choke on air. My cruddy little Muggle apartment room suddenly felt a lot more appealing… Yeah, living with my parents would probably lead to something much like a happy childhood all over again, but I didn't wanna be that person who was dependent for a vast majority of my life. "Thanks, but uh, no thanks. To the moving in part, that is. Help would be much appreciated…"

I'm not quite sure why, but those words right there felt like a 1,000 pound wait had fallen right atop my head. In other words: the full reality of the situation hit me, and _hard. _I wasn't even 20 yet, and I was going to be a _mother. _At least some girls spent their young years playing Family, or at least"caring" for baby dolls. I was never for that crap, not even in my girly-girl phase… I threw my dolls around and experimented with their dresses, not treat them like they were my real life children. So to sum that all up into less than 5 words: I had no experience.

That was only the beginning of my dilemmas, too. Money, first off, was a huge issue. I could just barely afford to take care of myself; feeding a second mouth was completely out of the question. Moreover, odds were that I'd absolutely _suck _as a mother. I never cared for kids, so I avoided interacting with them and made do with being disgusted from afar. I mean, I'd probably grow to love my own kid, but…. Of course there was the fact that the identity of its father was a complete mystery to me. Maybe I'd see him at another Quidditch game, but for some reason, I didn't _want _to. I wanted him to have nothing to do with my son or daughter (the thought that I would in fact be having a son or daughter sent shivers down my spine), even if it was his too…

To think the list still goes on.

By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, I found that I was absently resting my hand on my still-flat stomach. Holy shit, there was actually a freaking _baby _in there… A living thing… Something that would rely on me, and call me Mummy… A very, very, _very _small smile appeared on my face. So maybe it wasn't a 100% bad thing- if it was, I'd get the thing out of me ASAP, if not give it up for adoption the day it was born. I pictured a gender-neutral little child, smiling brightly up at me, showing dimples on their chubby face and snuggling affectionately into my neck as I held them in my arms…

"You know babe, that kid won't have it _totally _bad…" Leave it to my dad to not only acknowledge the fact that I was doubting my parenting skills, but also openly express that he was aware of what I was thinking. He grinned at me, pointing at himself using his thumb. "It'll have the sexiest grandpa in the history of sexy grandpas."

His sense of humor normally provided me with the urge to throw a pillow at him, but this time, I actually laughed. I did, however, still mutter the word "Gross" when Mum gave him a kiss on the cheek and agreed with him. In my opinion, 46 and 47 years old are _much _too old for affection. On the flip side, at least my parents were still happy together. They almost divorced when I was a kid…. But let's not get into that now.

"I think I'm gonna head back to my place," I indicated, scooping up a handful of snickerdoodles to go as I got to my feet. My parents stood up as well, Mum walking over to give me a hug.

"The second you need anything, you Disapparate your butt right over here, alright? I mean it," she told me. Rolling my eyes, I returned her hug with one arm before stepping away to let Dad kiss my forehead.

"We're here for you, love," he assured me. I nodded slowly, thanked them under my breath, and Disapparated before the moment could become any mushier.

So maybe the whole thing wasn't 100% horrible. Then again, it was _far _from being 100% alright.


	3. Chapter 3

I had to tell Dennis.

But I couldn't.

He'd find out eventually.

But he didn't have to find out so soon.

He deserved to know ASAP.

But I didn't want to tell him…

Oh, the conflict. In the end, however, my conscience won and I decided it best to tell my best friend about my sticky little situation. I woke up one morning- about 3 weeks after I'd confronted my parents- and sent Dennis an email saying I'd be visiting that day. We _had _been suggesting that we see each other in person, so why not now?

"_Hey Denny, I was wondering if you were busy today? I was thinking I'd stop by. If you're available, then I'll seeya later. –Kait," _was simply what the email had read. After groggily opening my eyes from sleep, I just laid there in bed for a good 5 minutes contemplating whether or not to contact Dennis. When I made my decision, I pushed myself upright, grabbed my laptop off of my side table, situated it on my lap, turned it on, and clicked open my email.

Once I hit _Send, _I slid the computer out of the way and dragged myself out of bed. The very first thing I did once I was on my feet was turn to look at myself sideways in my bureau mirror, pulling the hem of my two-sizes-too-large nightshirt up to my chest. I don't know why, but ever since the pregnancy test came out positive, it's become a sort of morning ritual to check if I'm showing yet. It's almost as if I expect to wake up one day looking like I'm due any minute. At the time, I was _just _beginning to show; if anything, it appeared as if I'd simply had a huge breakfast.

Speaking of breakfast…

I slunk into my miniature kitchen and opened up a cabinet full of breakfast foods. My blue eyes lazily scanned over the selection, and in my head I calmly debated whether I should choose a Pop-Tart or cereal. I eventually decided on the latter, but grabbed a package of Pop-Tarts anyway. I wasn't exactly craving stuff just yet, though I always had the urge to be eating whether I was hungry or not. It was weird, actually: I constantly felt right in between hungry and full.

So anyway, after my cereal, I dropped my bowl in the sink (God I was behind on dishes…) and returned to my bedroom. I poked the track pad to wake my laptop back up, and refreshed my email page. The sight of no new messages made me pout like a little kid who didn't get their way. Because of that, I made do with getting dressed _very _slowly while I waited.

Clothed in a simple tee advertising an Irish Quidditch team and my favorite pair of ripped jeans, I plopped back down on my bed. Damn. Still nothing new… That being said, after aimlessly staring at the computer screen for about 20 seconds, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a rectangle popped up at the bottom of the screen saying: _1 New Message From D. Creevey. _You can only imagine how quickly I clicked _Show message. _

"_Today was a good day to contact me: I'm actually just hanging around the house. You can pop in whenever you want, I'm ready any time." _And then he inserted a little smiley face emoticon- quite frankly, it mirrored the expression on my face. I typed "_Then expect me, like, NOW," _sent it, shut down the laptop, used my wand to lock my apartment's door, and Disapparated to Dennis's house about 40 minutes away.

Dennis's home isn't exactly much. It's a simple one story townhouse on a street where both Muggles and magic people live. All it has is a bathroom, two bedrooms, a little living room, and a kitchen that doubles as a dining room. Then again, considering where I live, I'm in no place to criticize.

I intended to just barge in, but found the door was, as it should be, locked. "_Alohomara," _I whispered, pointing my wand at the doorknob after checking to make sure nobody was outside.

"DEN-NY, I'M HE-ERE," I shouted the moment I stepped inside. Dennis stuck his head around a corner into the room, a slight smile on his face. When he walked over so that he was close enough for me to glance into his eyes, I could detect flickers of excitement in those gray orbs.

"Hey, Kait," he said calmly. He's a pretty plain looking dude, really. Long face, lanky build, bleach blonde hair that's about 2 inches longer than mine with bangs that flop slightly over his eyes… I personally think he's a total cutie. Still, as we embraced in a tight hug, I didn't feel that fluttering inside my chest that I did when I was younger. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Something to eat?" Dennis offered once we broke apart. I shook my head.

"Nah, let's just sit." Dennis tilted his head slightly, but didn't protest. Instead, he sat on his relatively small sofa and motioned for me to sit beside him. Like I needed an invitation.

"So what brings you here all of a sudden?" Way to get right to the point, Denny… No "How have you been?" or "It's nice to see you" or any of that other polite crap he usually pulls… And here I had been hoping to strike up a casual conversation and tell him you-know-what somewhere along the way. Well, might as well get it over with quick, like ripping off a band-aid…

"I've got some, heh, _news._" I immediately found myself snickering into my fist. It was very rarely that I experienced this "nervous" thing, so apparently I dealt with it by laughing… Well isn't that just charming. For about 15 seconds, I just sat there giggling like a mental person until I finally swallowed it down and sobered myself. With a deep breath, I told Dennis as plainly as possible: "I'm pregnant."

Yup. Quick like ripping off a band-aid. The whole telling him part was actually a lot easier than I expected it to be… I guess it was safe to assume the rest would be a lot more difficult. From the look on Dennis's face, you'd think I just exclaimed something utterly shocking, totally life changing, and unbelievable. …Oh, right. So I guess his reaction was pretty reasonable.

Dennis was on his feet in a flash, his eyes wide. "_What?_ H...how? Who's the father? How far along are you? You're not joking, are you?"

My eyebrows furrowed together a bit. "Come on, even _I _wouldn't joke about something like that."

"Right, right, sorry, it's just…. _How?_" he breathed, running a hand through his bangs. "You never told me you were seeing anybody," he murmured as a look of betrayal flashed across his face. It was soon replaced, though, with one of panic. "Kaitlin, were you _raped?" _

"No! Not… not exactly." And so I explained _everything _to him. How the man approached me at that Quidditch game… How I figured one date with that stranger couldn't hurt, since I needed to get out more often anyway… How I'm so horrible at handling alcohol that in the end I couldn't even remember the guy's name… How I woke up in the morning feeling totally dead and finding evidence that we had _done it…_ How I Disapparated out of there so fast that I barely even recalled the size of the room… How I was suddenly desiring food 24-7… How I bought a pregnancy test just to humor myself, only to find it was positive… _Everything. _

"Merlin's pants, Kait…" Dennis whispered, absently setting a comforting hand on my arm. "So, are going to, you know, keep the kid?"

I nodded. "See, I've been planning out this whole apocalypse thing, and what better way to start it than bring another _me _into the world?" I grinned at him for just a moment. "But, seriously, I am. Seems too cruel to do anything else…"

Dennis smirked at me as I awkwardly patted my stomach. "You are such a softie," he teased. My cheeks immediately flared red, but he continued talking before I could punch his face in. "It won't be all bad, anyway… I mean, babies are so cute…" Oh, right. Dennis had a thing for little kids (not like a pedophile or anything, that's just disgusting). Ever since he was one himself, he'd been _dying _for a baby sibling. Unfortunately for him, his mum had some sort of genetic issue or whatever that didn't allow her to bear kids. It took poor Dennis until his was 10 to give up on hearing his parents declare that he'd be a big brother.

"Eh, yeah, I guess… When you get past all the whining and the nasty crap they do…"

"Well you'll be an… _interesting _mother," he mused. I overdramatically placed my hands over my heart.

"You mean it? _Thank _you, Denny."

He chuckled quietly and gave my hand a reassuring little squeeze. Yeah, and _I'm _the softie. "Don't even start to think you're alone in this. I know you wanna play Miss Independent, but if you ever need anything, just call." He squeezed my hand tighter. "I'm here for you, Kaitlin."

For some reason, that made me feel a hell of a lot better than when my parents told me the same thing.


	4. Chapter 4

My parents… Check. My best friend… Check. I'd tell the rest of my family eventually, though not before I told my most immediate relative: my older brother, Sam. I'll admit, I kind of like my bro. He's a goody-two-shoes Hufflepuff, yeah, but ever since we were kids we somehow managed to get along great. I tease him; he teases me back. I taught him how to ride a broom correctly so his friends wouldn't make fun of him; he tutored me so I didn't flunk out of Hogwarts.

As mentioned before, Sam owns an orphanage. The guy has always _adored _kids, but never planned on settling down and having his own. Unlike our dad, he wasn't a player that changed girlfriends every week… But a cute, nice guy like Sam didn't stay single for long either. He much preferred serious relationships- his shortest one lasted a month- though after a breakup, it took a week tops for him to find another girl he really liked.

That being said, I wasn't at all surprised to see him sitting with some anonymous young woman when I came to visit him on his lunch break. Even though he's got a whole apartment on the top floor of the building, I found my brother sitting at a picnic table outside as the orphans either frolicked around the little playground in the back or ate nearby Sam and his girlfriend. At least the couple had a table to themselves.

"Katie? Katie, hey!" my brother called the second I walked out the back door. A bunch of the kids stopped what they were doing to stare at me- some with big smiles, others with creepy blank expressions. I scrunched up my nose slightly at them, otherwise ignoring the nasty little creatures.

"'Sup, Sammy?" I casually plunked myself on the bench across from him as he told his skeptical-looking girlfriend that I was his sister, a goofy grin on his face all the while. Really, it would be better if I just got straight to the point and made this visit short and sweet. But I hadn't seen my brother in a couple months and I had stuff to make up. Specifically: being the obnoxious younger sister that I am.

With a smirk creeping onto my face, I propped my elbows on the table and rested my chin atop the backs of my hands. My icy blue eyes pierced right through Sam's girlfriend. "So you're the newest woman to position herself in Sam's life, I see. Has he popped _the question_ yet?" I raised an eyebrow for effect.

Sam's girlfriend chuckled nervously. I was making her uncomfortable already, hm? Good. That's what I was going for. "Oh, sweetie, I don't think we plan on getting engaged just yet. It's a little early on…"

My smirk deepened (if that was even possible). "That isn't the question I was talking about. Maybe it's more of an action than a question…" Actually, the question I had in mind _was _a marriage proposal… But the idea to play the moment for all its worth and embarrass the hell out of Sam was ever so appealing. "I'm sure he'd be extra careful not to knock you up, he's already got all these brats running around… If he did, at least the kid would have _plenty _of little playmates."

"I uh, need to get back to work, my lunch break is almost over," Sam's girlfriend muttered, coughing into her fist as she hurriedly closed her lunchbox and stood up. I swear, I've never seen anyone blush so heavily in my life…

Grinning, I waved after the woman's retreating form after she gave Sam a quick kiss and scurried off. Hold up, was I actually feeling _guilty _that I'd chased off my brother's girlfriend? Damn you hormones… Fortunately for me, Sam just chuckled. "I'll be honest, I haven't been clicking with her anyway." It wasn't like I was feeling relieved that I didn't hurt Sam… No way. That wasn't how I rolled. "So, what are you doing here?"

_I'm here to share completely shocking news that you probably won't believe and/or will freak over, _I thought. "I haven't seen my beloved brother dear in _far _too long," was what I instead answered in an overdramatic voice. Sam rolled his eyes and began to respond, until we were no longer alone at the table. A boy around 4 years old was pulling himself up onto the bench beside Sam, sniffling up a storm.

"Mr. Sam… I got a SPLINTER!" he gasped. By the tragedy in his voice, you'd think his mother just died. …Oh, wait. Well now I feel like a bad person.

"A _splinter? _Oh gosh, come here little guy," Sam crooned, gently grabbing the boy by the wrist. He murmured stuff like "I bet that hurts" and "I'll have it out in one second" as his tilted the kid's hand this way and that, getting as good a look as possible at the outstretched pointer finger. Carefully, with the precision of a surgeon, he grabbed hold of the minuscule piece of wood and pinched it between his index finger and thumb's fingernails. With a slight yank, the splinter was gone. "There, all better! Be careful now, okay?" Sam advised, ruffling the boy's hair.

"O-okay… I'll twy," the child whispered, repeatedly glancing from the ground to Sam. Appearing as if he'd made up his mind about something, he quickly hugged Sam around the legs before bolting back off to the playground.

"You're really good with kids, aren't you? Every single one I've met seems to like you," I remarked, allowing my eyes to drift over the many children present.

"Well I would hope so… Otherwise I'd be out of a job," Sam chuckled. That made him sound like he only cared about the money, yeah, but I knew him better than that: he'd care for every single one of these kids even if he didn't get paid a knut for it.

I'll admit: observing some of the little brats made me smile slightly. The younger girls brushing the hair of their dolls… The boys pushing each other on the swing… The various-aged kids playing hopscotch… The older ones kicking around a ball or listening to music… "So maybe the little monsters aren't so bad after all," I reasoned as much to myself as to Sam.

Sam stared at me skeptically. "What caused _that _extreme change of heart?"

Extreme? It was not extreme….. Okay, so maybe it was extreme. After all, I hated kids a _lot. _"So, do you think you'll ever have kids of your own?" I asked quickly. Sam raised an eyebrow at my abrupt change of subject, but still shrugged and answered my question.

"I don't think so… Even if I find the right woman, having my own kid would just be too much, I think. Now seriously. Why do you suddenly say you don't hate kids all that much?"

Gee, Sammy, way to have a one-track mind. I sighed heavily. Here we go… "Okay, so maybe I _do _think that kids are all that bad. But, if I had my own… Maybe I'd actually like it. _Love _it, even." I wouldn't be surprised if Sam could hear my rapid heartbeat even from across the table.

Sam looked utterly confused, and perhaps slightly disgusted. "Kaitlin… What's going on?"

I inhaled a shuddering deep breath; I stared down at my lap, refusing to make eye contact with my brother. "Sam… I'm pregnant."

Silence. Awkward, shocked, _terrible _silence. "Is… is Dennis the father?" Sam whispered. The very thought of that made me flinch visibly.

"No. We're never going back to dating," I assured him.

"Then… How long have you had a new boyfriend?" Sam attempted to smile. "And you didn't even bother to tell your big brother you were in a relationship?"

"I don't _have _a boyfriend," I muttered. "I don't know the baby's dad…."

So much for Sam's tiny smile. Now he just looked downright devastated. "Bloody hell, Katie… Were you… _raped?_" he whispered.

"No…. Not exactly…" I gulped, not at all eager to recount this story yet again. "I was at work, and this guy asked if I wanted to go get to know him over a drink… I have _no _idea why I was stupid enough to accept, but I did, and you know how horrible I am with alcohol, and the next morning I woke up naked in the guy's bed and covered in hickeys and now I'm having a stranger's baby," I explained quickly. Sam took a moment to register my words.

"Oh Kaitlin…. I'm so sorry… Are you going to get an abortion?" That right there sort of hurt me.

"Come on, I'm not _that _much of a bitch." I finally looked up at Sam.

"Sorry, sorry, I wasn't trying to accuse you of being one," he insisted, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "So will you put it up for adoption? There's always room here at the orphanage, and the child would be in great care until a loving family decides to claim-"

"Sam, shut up. I'm keeping the kid," I interrupted. Sam stared at me with a dumbstruck expression for a few seconds. I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest. "I can handle it! I'll have Mum, and Dad, and Dennis helping out, and you best lend a hand too, Uncle Sam."

Playfulness seeped through Sam's shocked features. "Isn't Uncle Sam some sort of American historical figure?"

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Do I look like I know anything about American history?"

"Not at all, no," Sam laughed. I have to admit, his smile was contagious, especially when he softened it. "So, do you have any names picked out?"

Crap. I forgot I'd have to name the thing. "I'm only 2 months along. I didn't think it was necessary yet."

Sam simply nodded, his expression becoming serious. "You do realize what a _gigantic _commitment this is, right? You-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I quickly stood up, causing some of the kids to whip their heads curiously in my direction. "I just wanted to tell you, I didn't want advice or nothing… I'll see you around." I gave him a half-hearted wave, hesitantly pecked him quickly on the cheek, and shuffled inside to Disapparate in case any of the orphans were Muggles.

Well that wasn't so bad, was it? Ah, hell, who am I kidding… That was nerve-wrecking.


End file.
